by Lydia E. Miller
I stare at the letters
on the page until they stand up
and swing their hips
to the beat of a song
I couldn’t quite hear before.
They shift and mingle
with the twinkle of string
lights against the ink
of their i’s.
The space of the page
– the page space,
the eternal and simultaneous
combustion and expansion
of the universe eating itself
into the holes of its heart –
the crispy pain of existence
slathered with labors of love
down its throat
– delicious.
You know, the page space
seems to breathe
with the dance floor.
Beneath that mischievous
band of letters bopping about
like baby ducks.
So I drum in sync
and march along
as they bounce
their way home
in the page space.
About the Author
Lydia E. Miller is a graduating creative writing major at Finger Lakes Community College. She served two semesters as the president of Dead Poets Society, the college’s creative writing club. Her specialties are poetry and creative nonfiction. Lydia aims to achieve her PhD in English with a concentration in creative writing. Her dream is to return to FLCC as a professor and to continue her lifelong work as an author. Lydia enjoys performing her work at cafés and studios in the Finger Lakes and Rochester region with her collection of found family.